


DebriefeD

by micehell



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-13
Updated: 2005-11-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He watched John leave, watches John come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	DebriefeD

/story

Rodney lies on the bed, one arm trailing down to the floor, his chin resting over the edge as he stares at John. He watches the boxers slide up over long, thin legs, the tiny, black hairs roiling angrily at being disturbed. Rodney is too tired, too happy to put his boxers back on.

His eyes dips shut, open, shut, but he watches John leave, the pause at the door, the slow, crooked smile that promises, promises more.

::::::::::

The pain only makes John moan harder, push faster, and Rodney absorbs it all, swallowing him down, down, until there's nothing holding them back, up, sinking to the floor in a heap of limbs beyond their control.

::::::::::

Only the lips Rodney kept over his teeth saves John from damage as the orgasm that scours through Rodney causes him to tense and release, tense and release, tense and release until he sags, held up by the still-hard cock in his mouth.

::::::::::

Rodney pulls John's hips forward, taking him in as deep as he can. He hums his pleasure, John moans his, and Rodney rubs, rubs his hard cock against a hard shin, the pressure of bone, of force, the faint tickle of hairs caught, catching, driving him to rub harder, to suck harder.

::::::::::

John is leaning back, a wave along the wall, hands scrabbling along its surface, face switching between pain and pleasure as sensation is pulled from him, his teeth biting into a pink, pink lip to push his reaction back.

::::::::::

Rodney teases the tip with his tongue, running it along the slit, around the flared edges of the head, down the vein, pulsing madly. It matches the pulse in his head, in his cock, and he sucks the length in, wanting to take that beat, beat deep inside.

::::::::::

His hand trails back up the leg, over hard planes of thighs, the angled vector of the hips, gripping where the little swell of flesh arced forward into bone, sloped backward into the round half-moon that glowed faintly in the dim light of his room.

His other hand combs through dark curls, runs around the base of the hard, hard cock, smiling up at John when he moans, hips pushing against Rodney's light hold.

::::::::::

He pulls the boxers down, slowly, slowly, his time consumed with appreciating the pale skin, the curve of knee, the defined ankle.

::::::::::

Rodney kneels before John like a supplicant. He doesn't ask though, he gives, gives.

story


End file.
